


Dark Side

by snarkymonkey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Description of wounds, Gen, Graphic, M/M, The moment Cas was lost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29844138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymonkey/pseuds/snarkymonkey
Summary: Castiel is a warrior of Heaven.  He has a duty.Hehada duty.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Dark Side

_Underneath the darkside, is an honest man_

_~Darkside~_

_Sam Tinnesz_

Castiel knew his duty. Had known it since his creation. Serve his father. Serve Heaven. At no point of his existence, had he considered alternate paths. When the directive came to retrieve the Righteous Man, he’d given it no secondary thought. He was a soldier. A warrior. 

He would serve.

Do his duty.

Wings scorched and torn, grace tainted by damned souls begging for salvation, he still focused only on that single point. Silver bright, despite its fall. A speck of life in the midst of death.

Castiel knew his duty. _Knew_ his duty.

His grace belled and swarmed, driving back the shadows around the Righteous Man. Clearing a path for their joined escape. He encircled the Righteous Man, rousing him from his stupor. He was not prepared, however. Didn’t expect the Righteous Man to latch on, desperation in his silent cries. The misshapen form, bent and broken, leashed with chains that bit into gangrenous flesh. Blackened eyes, hollow and screaming.

Castiel’s grace dimmed, overtaken by the agony that had rent this single soul. In a flash, he saw it all. The souls tormented. The injuries inflicted on and by this single being. That of his life and his death. What he’d done. What he continued to do. The _murder_ he wallowed in. And through it all, a bright shining coin of hope and desperate love. Courage worn away to a breath. Edges eroded to threadbare lines. A speck of light lost in a darkness so absolute.

He nearly fled. Nearly abandoned his command. How? How was _this_ a treasure of Heaven? How could the angels have let a soul so cherished succumb to such atrocity? Castiel gathered his grace, nearly gaining a form as he hovered before the Righteous Man.

He touched a gaunt cheek, the black eyes now white. _How._ His voice rang in the chamber and the demons about them screamed in pain, writhing out of sight. _How has this happened?_

The spirit before him opened his mouth, soundless, blood falling from split lips. _Deserved._

He keened at the honest belief in the word. The chamber groaned in response, demons shrieking as the structure began to give, caving in at the power of a grieving angel. He shifted, gripping the withered shoulder of the Righteous Man, ignoring the agonized scream as he did.

_No._ He drew the spirit into the depths of his grace, chains snapping and falling to the floor. Infection burned away. Wounds healed. But still the soul screamed, writhing under his grip. _No. Not this one._ Another flash of his grace, carving a hole through the shadows of Hell. He clutched the soul to him, driving upward, the weight in his grace painful as he tore it free from Hell.

All through it, his grace screamed in tandem with the fragile soul in his hands.

~~*~~

Castiel glanced at the blade in his chest, before refocusing on the human before him. Fear swam desperately in green eyes. The hollow grief of before a figment. A shadow in Castiel’s memories.

Though he read it, buried deep within that fragmented soul. Could see his own graced echoed back, specks of protective light, forever lost within a mortal man.

He _knew_ his duty. Knew what he would require of this Dean Winchester. His grace glittered in Dean’s eyes, a haunting glow of blue that faded quickly. 

_Heaven would destroy you as surely as Hell tried._

_Dean._ _Winchester._ In his sight, he could see a hint of silver blue through soft cloth. 

A scar. 

A promise. 

A threat. 

_No. Not this one._

**Author's Note:**

> Just popped into my head this morning so hopefully it's enjoyed. I just always like the idea of Castiel leaving a piece of him in Dean's soul and thus sealing their relationship from the beginning.


End file.
